The Demon's Will
by SupernaturalFreak101
Summary: Sam has a vision of Ava being murdered. When he rushes to the house she was murdered in to save her, the demon is there, waiting for him. LimpHurtSam and ProtectiveDean.
1. Chapter 1

3

**The Demon's Will**

Once again I want to thank all my friends for reading and editing my story. This is my second fanfic, so be as brutal as you like. I would love to hear from all of you. Thanks for choosing to read my story!!

It started like it usually did, interrupting his dreams with a horrible pain and a blinding white light. Scrambled images flashed through his mind as he tried to make sense of the upcoming vision. It was difficult to distinguish the images through the pain in his head. The images finally slowed and began to play like a movie in his head.

_Ava sat tied to a chair in the middle of an almost completely bare room, save for the table in one of the corners. Her chest was heaving and tears flowed down her bloodstained face. Her crying was muffled by the duct tape placed over her mouth. The chair trembled along with her body and her round, terrified eyes rose to meet someone who was standing across the room. Sam tore his gaze away from the bloodied Ava to see whom she was staring at and felt his heart thump loudly in his chest: Gordon._

Gordon stood there casually, leaning against the wall with a malicious smile plastered on his face. In his right hand, he held a long thin knife as he gently stroked it with his left hand. He caressed it lovingly, as if remembering the lives it had taken, the blood that had washed over its spotless silver surface. His features were pulled tight, as if he had an unpleasant taste in his mouth. He regarded Ava with distaste and hatred.

"_You have been an elusive bitch," said Gordon, his voice dripping with malice, "but I finally have you. There is no escape now."_

_Gordon crossed the room slowly to where Ava was tied to the chair, soaking up her delicious fear. It reverberated around the room in great waves. He stopped in front of Ava and bent down so his face was only inches away from her own._

"_I have nothing against you," said Gordon, caressing her cheek with a long finger while she shuddered from his touch. "You are such a beautiful girl." Ava trembled and tried to move her face away from Gordon's. Gordon grabbed her chin and yanked it so she was looking him in the eye. "I'm not killing you for revenge, it's more like a public service."_

_Gordon took one last look into her terrified eyes and rose back to his full height. He raised the knife and smiled his horrible smile. The blade of the knife glinted in the dark room. Ava shook her head vigorously and the tears ran faster down her cheeks. Gordon lowered the knife and Ava released a breath. She sucked in sharply when Gordon placed the edge of the blade an inch from her throat. She squirmed, eyeing the knife and pulled desperately at the ropes tying her to the chair_.

"_It's such a shame," Gordon whispered in her ear. She shuddered, not from the cold, but at the evil that was emanating from Gordon. He pressed the knife against her neck, drawing blood while Ava whimpered in fear. "You could be such a nice girl, if you weren't a demonic bitch!"_

Gordon raised the knife above his head and plunged in straight into Ava's heart. Ava's scream reverberated around the room barely muffled by the duct tape. Her scream ripped through Sam's soul and brought tears to his eyes. Blood poured from her chest and tears fell to the floor in a steady stream. Gordon wrenched the knife from her chest and watched as the life drained from her body. Ava's cursed soul was cruelly ripped from her body. When all her life force had been expelled, her head fell forward onto her chest. Her heart stopped and her chest no longer rose. Only the steady drip drip of her blood on the floor could be heard in the room. Gordon gripped the knife with his right hand, pulled out a handkerchief, and began wiping his latest victim's blood from the surface.

"_Yes, it really is a shame…" _

Thank you so much for reading the first chapter. I should be able to get the next chapter up by Friday, and if not, then it will definitely be up on Saturday. Please continue reading and send me a review. Thanks! Oh, and I do have another story on the site, if you want to check it out.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey guys, sorry it took so long to update. Thanks so much for reading my story, and I hope you enjoy it!_

Sam's eyes shot open and his chest heaved, desperately pulling in air. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. He wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to retain the information from his vision before it slipped away. Looking around the small, shabby motel room, he heaved a large sigh. The motel room looked just like it had when he had fallen asleep. Two small beds, a tiny refrigerator with an even smaller TV on top, and a small bathroom decorated the room. The weapons bag lay on the floor at the foot of Dean's bed while Sam's laptop case lay at the foot of his. Reaching for the nightstand, he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. The address, the address of the abandoned house where Ava was murdered. It had flashed in his head from a letter left on the table. He needed to write it down before it was wiped from his mind.

"33 Summerdale Drive, Houston Texas," Sam muttered as the pen scribbled furiously across the paper. He heard the covers on the bed next to him rustling, a telltale sign that he had once again woken up Dean by his nightmares. It was almost as if Dean had a sixth sense; he always knew when Sam needed him.

"What are you doing Sam?" asked Dean groggily, a little annoyed. "It's four in the morning."

Sam ignored him and began going over the details of his nightmarish vision. Every excruciating detail.

"Wait, did you have another vision?" asked Dean, unable to keep the worry and concern from his voice.

"Yeah," Sam said, rubbing his temples to try and ease his horrible headache. It had become a sort of habit ever since his visions had started.

"Was it about me?" Dean asked. "Because if I am gonna get decapitated or ripped to shreds in the near future, I would really appreciate some kind of warning."

"No, Dean, it wasn't about you," said Sam, rolling his eyes at his over sarcastic brother. Although it annoyed him sometimes, he loved how Dean could say something funny in any situation.

"Okay," said Dean, switching over to serious mode and protect Sammy mode, "what did you see?"

"Well, I saw Ava and she was…tied to a chair," Sam began with a slight tremor in his voice.

"Where?" Dean asked earnestly.

"33 Summerdale Drive, Houston Texas," Sam said.

"How do you know?" Dean asked.

"There was a letter on the table with the address on it. Anyway, G…Gordon came up to her and…and…"

Tears began to form in his eyes and fell down his cheeks. He saw Dean tense when the tears fell down his face. Dean got up from his position on the bed and sat down next to Sam, placing a hand comfortingly on his knee.

"We can talk about this later, if you want," Dean said, concern lining his face. Concern for his little brother's pain and suffering.

"No, I need to tell you now," Sam said, wiping the tears from his face. "Well, Gordon walked over to where Ava was tied to the chair, twirling his k…knife. Then he raised it up and stabbed her…in the…heart."

Sam felt an unpleasant feeling in the back of throat and rushed to the bathroom, where his dinner from the night before made a startling reappearance.

"You okay dude?" Dean asked, sticking his head into the bathroom to check on his little brother.

"Yeah," Sam said weakly, wiping bile from his lips. "I'm fine."

Sam was lying and he knew it; he was far from fine. He had just seen one of his only friends murdered in cold blood. Watched as the knife plunged into her heart and the blood gushed onto the floor. He saw her die. How could he possibly be okay? But he couldn't let Dean know how much he was hurting inside. It would only worry him more. All Sam knew was that he needed to find 33 Summerdale Drive and save Ava from Gordon.

"Hey Sam?" Dean called from outside the bathroom.

"Yeah?" Sam said.

"Isn't Gordon supposed to be in jail?" asked Dean.

Sam's mouth opened in shock and he wasn't able to respond. He looked around the dingy motel room bathroom trying to think. Well, he obviously escaped to keep on his killing escapade. What was Dean trying to imply, that his vision was wrong? That he was lying? Lowering his head over the sink, he splashed some cold water on his face.

"Sam?" Dean called.

"Yeah, I heard you," said Sam, walking out of the tiny bathroom. "He must of broken out or had someone pay bail. Something, anything!"

Sam threw his arms up in the air in frustration, sitting heavily on his bed.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Dean asked.

"What's my problem?" Sam shouted. "I just saw Gordon murder Ava, Dean. You're not taking me seriously! You're asking me these stupid questions about Gordon being in jail. I saw him kill her; it's going to happen! We need to save her!"

Sam let out a frustrated sigh and put his head in his hands. He couldn't get those horrid images out of his head. They danced in his mind, mocking him, showing him what would happen if he failed to save Ava. Just like he had failed to save so many others.

"Calm down Sam," Dean said, little worried. "Try to get some sleep and we will figure this out in the morning. We will check to see if Gordon is still in jail."

"What are you talking about Dean?" Sam yelled. "I saw him, and he murdered… it's going to happen and we need to stop it!"

Sam didn't know why Dean was being so difficult, or why he himself was being so emotional about this particular vision. Maybe it was because that had almost happened to him. Or maybe it was because he liked Ava more than he let on.

"I don't know Sam, it's kind of weird," Dean said, twisting his bed sheets between his fingers. "I mean usually we have to do a bunch of research to find the people in your visions, and this time the address is on a letter on some random table. Don't you think that's a little too coincidental?"

Sam stared at his brother, dumfounded. How could he not believe him? He didn't understand the visions, how vivid they were. Fine, if his brother wouldn't help, he would go save Ava by himself.

"We need to calm down and get some sleep," Dean said. "We'll check out everything at a more decent time. You seriously need some sleep dude: you look like crap. I promise we will find Ava and make sure she is okay."

"Yeah, whatever," Sam said, throwing one of his pillows at his big brother. Dean dodged it and chucked his own pillow at Sam, which hit him squarely in the face.

"Jerk," Sam said, his face breaking into a rather forced smile.

"Bitch," Dean retorted, his face also breaking into a smile. "Now go back to sleep, we will deal with this in the morning. I promise."

"Okay," Sam said, lying down on the small, hard motel room bed and settling himself under the covers. Inside he knew he wouldn't be getting to sleep. Those images would never let him sleep. There was no way he was going to wait until morning to figure this out either. He knew exactly where he was going and what was going to happen. He had to know if Ava was going to be okay. And he had to know now.

Sam waited impatiently until he heard the slow steady breathing that indicated that Dean had fallen back asleep. Just to make sure, he looked over at Dean and sure enough, his eyes were closed and his chest was moving slowly up and down. At least someone would be getting some sleep. He threw the covers off his body and slowly got up, making sure the bed didn't creek. Quickly, he dressed and grabbed some weapons from the bag at the foot of Dean's bed. He stole across the room, opening the door with a loud creek.

Sam looked fearfully back at Dean holding his breath, waiting to see if the creek had woken up his older brother. He let go of the breath when Dean showed no indication of hearing the sound. Opening the door, he slipped the rest of the way out and closed the door softly. The early morning wind whipped through his hair, like the breath of a vengeful spirit. The street was completely silent, only the sound of a meowing cat could be heard as it darted across the motel parking lot. Sam looked around the parking lot and spotted and old '97 Mustang. Laughing silently to himself, he went over to the car and broke into it.

"Dean would think I was such a pussy for stealing a Mustang," Sam said to himself. He opened the door and sat in the worn leather seat. Pulling the wires he would need to start the car, he struck them together until the car roared to life. He sat in the car, gripping the wheel. He wasn't sure he should leave Dean again; after all he had put him through. But he needed to save Ava, and this was the only way.

"See ya later Dean," Sam whispered.

Sam pulled out of the parking lot leaving a giant dust cloud in his wake. He pulled onto the road and started towards his destination, 33 Summerdale Drive, Houston Texas. He would find her: he had to. Nothing else mattered.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean knew something was wrong as soon as his body began to stir into wakefulness. The feeling enveloped his entire body until he couldn't take it anymore. He opened his eyes and shot up, trying to figure out what was causing the particularly painful pit in his stomach. Looking over at Sam's bed, he knew instantly exactly what was causing his panic. Sammy was gone!

Dean looked around in a panic, but could find no sign of his little brother. Jumping out of his bed with incredible speed, he ran into the tiny bathroom. Nothing. He sprinted across the motel room, wrenched open the door, and ran into the parking lot. It would have been comical, Dean running into the parking lot in boxers and a t-shirt, if there weren't tears streaming down his face. It was all his fault; he should have realized Sam was desperate enough to leave him. Again. Just like he left his to go to Stanford. Like his father had left to get his revenge on the demon. They always left him. They never seemed to realize jut how badly they hurt him by those simple acts. Never did they see Dean's soul rip from his body when he realized they weren't there.

Dean looked desperately around the parking lot for some sign that his little brother had just gone out for something to eat, not to leave him. But he knew, he had left him. Again, nothing. He kicked at the dirt at his feet in frustration and pain. How could Sam do this to him? Didn't he realize how much Dean needed him? Dean would never admit it out loud, but he probably needed Sam more than Sam needed him. Sure, he might be able to survive without Sam, but he wouldn't be able to live without him. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Without him.

"Sammy," Dean moaned, and sank to the ground in miserable defeat. "Where are you? Why did you leave me?" Dean screamed into the air, as if yelling at God for taking his brother away from him.

Dean slowly picked himself up off the ground, swiped at the dirt covering his legs, and trudged back to the motel room. It still smelled like Sammy. How the hell was he supposed to find him? If something happened to him, if he got hut, it would be all his fault. He should've known Sam would do something reckless like this. He didn't think straight when he was upset. Sam had said he was fine, but Dean knew he had been lying. Why did he fall asleep? He should have stayed up and watched Sam. It was obvious Sam wasn't going back to sleep after the horrible nightmare. He was probably lying there in silent turmoil, his vision haunting his mind, and he had done nothing to help him sort through it. It should have crossed his mind that Sam would do something like this. Sam did these kinds of things, running away, never looking back. Dean looked around the room desperately, as if searching for some clue as to where Sam had gone. Dean cursed himself because he knew Sam had said the address. But he couldn't remember. It hadn't seemed that important at the time. Now it was all that he could think about. Where his little brother was. Alone. Without him.

His eyes traveled over to the nightstand and a crumpled piece of paper caught his eye. He ran over to the nightstand with a speed that surprised even him and grabbed the piece of paper as if it was his only chance of living. And it was. It was the ticket to finding his little brother.

"33 Summerdale Drive, Houston Texas," Dean recited, gripping the piece of paper to his heart. "I'm coming Sammy, I'm coming."


	4. Chapter 4

Sam pulled in front of 33 Summerdale Drive, pulled the keys out of the ignition, and slumped against the seat staring at the house. The street was absolutely silent, a horrible ominous silence that rang in his ears. The house stood in the middle of the street, if it could be called a house, or the street could be called a street. The house looked like it had been uninhabited for quite awhile, as did the whole street. Empty fast food wrappers littered the ground and not a living soul, excluding Sam, walked down the street. The wreckage of a house looked as if it had once been painted white, though most of it was chipped and covered with graffiti. The windows, like all the other houses on the street, were boarded up. Not a soul would dare venture down this dilapidated street. It was the kind of place where people hid, or hid other people. Tension filled the car to point where Sam found it hard to breathe. Ava was probably already in there, with Gordon. Probably being tortured mercilessly and then killed. Sam swept his eyes down the street and he realized that if things went amiss, there would be no help, no hope. No one would be there to hear his screams. They would only fall upon deaf ears. But he had to save Ava, no matter what it takes.

Sam opened the car door and stepped out into the hot Texas air. He felt in his pocket for his knife and patted his back to reassure himself that his gun was there. The house stood there, staring at him as if waiting for him to make his next move. A bead of sweat slid down his face and his t-shirt stuck to his back. He swiped his hand across his forehead. No breeze blew as if it too were afraid to forge a path down the abandoned street. Sam twisted his hands together nervously and kept checking to make sure his weapons were still there.

"It's now or never," Sam whispered to himself.

Sam forced his feet to move forward, step by agonizing step. The distance from the car to the wreckage of a house seemed to lengthen. After what seemed like hours, Sam arrived at the front door. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it used to be painted blue. Now the paint was faded and the door was barely holding its position on the hinges. Sam reached behind his back and slowly pulled out his gun. The door swung inward with a barely audible creek. Sam gulped nervously and tried to use his fear to his advantage, just like Dean did. He was absolutely terrified of what he might find inside the house. The worn leather handle of the gun was gripped so tight that his knuckles had turned white. His eyes scanned the small entrance room nervously, as if waiting for something to jump out at him. Only the creeks of his shoes on the floor could be heard. A long hallway stretched before him, a door standing ajar at the end as if waiting to be pushed the rest of the way open. Sam walked forward quickly until he was standing before the door, his ears straining to hear anything from within. Not a sound reached his ears. He gently pushed the door open with a loud creek. Sam cringed at the raucous sound as it reverberated around the room. Now if something was in the house, it knew Sam was here.

The room he had entered was the room from his vision as he had expected. The table sat nestled in the corner and a chair stood in the middle of the room. Blood was spattered all over the floor around the chair. The only thing that crossed Sam's mind was that he was too late to save Ava. Sam rushed towards the chair and tried to inspect it closer while tears clouded his vision. He never saw the dark shape enter the room behind him. Never did he suspect that someone other than Gordon would be in that house. His brain hardly had time to register the blood before he was flung painfully against the wall. The demon walked across the room towards him, yellow eyes glinting with a wide smile plastered on his face. Sam tried to get free, only to have the pressure increase on his body, almost crushing him against the wall. The demon stopped in front of him, placing his face inches away from Sam's.

"Hello Sammy," he whispered. "Fancy meeting you here."

The last thought that crossed his mind before he passed out was that he should have listened to Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

_I am so sorry it took me so long to update. I had this stupid English project I had to do and I didn't have time to type. Anyway, your long wait has been rewarded with a long update. Hurt Sam in this chapter and I will gladly join the __**S**__ociety __**f**__or the __**C**__ontinuation of __**L**__imp (injured, sad, hurt, needy, emotional) __**a**__nd __**r**__edemed __**S**__am better known as SFTCOLAR(AR)S. Please review and tell me what you think ___

Pain. It was the only sensation that could penetrate the inky blackness of his mind. His entire body ached, especially his shoulders, which felt like they had been pulled out of their sockets. Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was the house, the chair, the demon…

Sam's eyes shot open and the manacles around his wrists pulled taut. His head whipped around, scanning the room for the demon. The room was small, and looked rather like a dungeon. On second thought, it probably was a dungeon. The cell smelled of a mixture of mold, decay, and wetness. Sam was hanging from the ceiling, his wrists shackled with his feet barely touching the ground. The chains rattled loudly every time he moved. Sam tried to adjust his position to relieve his shoulders, but his back just slammed against the wall behind him, causing him to halt the motion. There was definitely no way he was getting out of this. Directly in front of him was a line of bars with a large rusted lock. He couldn't think of a time when he was in deeper trouble than now. Unless Dean found him, which was a chance of slim to none, he would be no match for the demon. Sam would have to get out of this by himself, because staying here was just not an option. Now getting out of this cell would truly be _the _Great Escape. Just as he was about to try to formulate a plan of escape, he heard footsteps echoing outside his cell. Sam flinched nervously, begging silently to himself that it wasn't the demon. Anyone else, just not the demon.

The footsteps stopped right in front of his cell, and the sound of keys jangling together reached Sam's ears. The sound stopped, and a key was inserted into the lock and the door pushed open. Standing in the doorway was none other than Ava Wilson.

"Ava!" Sam yelled in a strangled voice.

Ava walked into the cell without the slightest indication that she had heard Sam speak. She merely glanced at Sam briefly, smiled slightly, and turned away.

"Ava, it's me, Sam Winchester," Sam said desperately. "Don't you remember me?"

"Of course," Ava retorted. "How could I forget you?"

It finally dawned on Sam that if this were a rescue attempt, Ava wouldn't have the keys to his cell.

"You have sided with the demon, haven't you?" Sam said, his voice filled with newfound hatred.

"You always were one to catch up quick, Sammy," Ava said, now walking towards Sam.

"Don't call me Sammy," Sam whispered, defiance spreading through his words.

"Anyway, _Sammy_, it is my job to convert the new children to the demon's way," said Ava, bringing her face close to Sam's. Sam shivered as her breath wafted over his face. "I will break you, and you will follow the demon's will."

"How?" asked Sam, afraid of the answer.

"Oh, I have my ways," Ava said, laughter in her voice. Ava turned until her back faced Sam, fumbling with something in her hands. Without warning, Ava spun around and swiped a long, sharp knife across Sam's midriff. Blood poured out of the wound like a river of crimson, and Sam cried out in surprise.

Ava once again loomed in front of Sam's face, silently mocking him. Sam tried to stare back, but eventually cast his eyes downward. Pain throbbed through his entire body from the wound on his stomach. He didn't know if he could make it through whatever Ava was going to throw at him, but he was going to have to try. There was no way he was going to give in to the demon.

"There will be no more defiance in those beautiful brown eyes of yours when I'm done," Ava whispered. She stroked Sam's cheek and slowly backed out of the cell. When she returned, she was carrying a number of various instruments, one of which almost caused Sam to gasp: a whip. Was the demon so desperate for his compliance that he was willing to whip him for it? Without a doubt he would. And if he told Ava to do something, she would do it without question. Ava saw Sam eyeing the whip with anxious eyes and dropped the rest of her "tools" and held the whip lovingly in her hands. She held it up so Sam could see it clearly.

"You like it?" Ava asked. "The demon gave it to me when I joined his army. Now I can use against those who refuse to join. Like you."

Sam stared at Ava in disbelief. This wasn't the girl he had met 5 months ago. She looked like she had aged ten years in just 5 months. Frown lines had been forged into her face and the laugh lines had disappeared. Her thin face was smeared with dirt and blood, as if she no longer cared about cleanliness. Not that it mattered. She would never be able to wash the blood from her hands.

"What happened to you?" Sam whispered.

"The demon made me an offer I just couldn't refuse," Ava said, still caressing the bloodstained whip in her hands.

"And what's that?" Sam asked her, eyeing the whip in her hands as his apprehension grew. There was no doubt in his mind now that she wouldn't hesitate to use it on him.

"You'll find out," Ava said, "after I have my fun."

She sauntered behind Sam and gripped at his shirt. Coldness caused Sam to shiver, as his shirt was ripped from his body in one swift motion.

"I have not failed yet to convert a psychic," Ava said, raising her whip. "And I refuse for you to be the first."

Sam closed his eyes and waited anxiously for the whip to cut into his back. Ava raised the whip and slashed it as hard as she could onto Sam's back. Blood bloomed from the diagonal line and dripped down his back in a steady stream. Sam wouldn't allow a scream tear from his lips, not wanting to give Ava the satisfaction of knowing she had hurt him. Ava only smiled and slashed the whip across his back again. More blood forged a path down his back and dripped down to the floor where it formed a puddle. Already Sam could see white spots erupt at the back of his eyes. The unforgiving whip once again cracked against his back. The pain was absolutely unbearable and felt like someone was holding a burning torch to his back. Ava continued to crack the whip across his back until there were ten streaks across his back.

Ava came around and looked Sam in the eyes. He had refused to cry out in pain throughout the entire beating, but she would change that. She would make him beg for mercy.

"How does that feel Sammy?"

Sam glared back it her with eyes veiled with pain. He tried to smirk to play off that it didn't hurt him, but failed miserably. Ava smiled an evil smile and went back to her pile of instruments.

"What to use next," Ava said, stroking her chin with her fingers. She shifted through the pile and eventually picked out a bat covered with dried blood. Gripping the bat in her fingers, she swung with unnatural force at the air.

"You see, I hold the world record for home runs," said Ava, sneering. "But with this bat, home runs means bones broken."

Ava swung the bat over her head and aimed it for Sam's side. It smashed into Sam's side and sent him swinging. This time Sam was unable to stop the scream that ripped from his lips. A loud crack resonated around the room and pain exploded from Sam's ribs. Sam looked down at his chest and saw that one side was slightly sunken in, one or maybe two of his ribs obviously broken. It was suddenly hard to breath and a sharp pain overtook his body every time he breathed.

"I knew I would make you scream," Ava whispered, a laugh spreading across her face.

"Bitch," Sam whispered through clenched teeth. He desperately fought against the tears that were springing up in the back of his eyes. Already he had given Ava the pleasure of a scream and there was no way he would let her see him cry.

The bat once again smacked against his body, this time hitting his left arm. Another loud crack echoed around the small room and a small whimper escaped Sam's lips. Damn it hurt so badly. But there was no way he would give in to the demon. He would rather die.

"You know," Sam wheezed, "you're…fiancé is…dead."

"Yeah, I know," Ava said, showing no hint of sadness on her face.

"You're not sad at all?" Sam said, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Of course not," said Ava, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's like the demon told me. He was holding me back, preventing me to use the extent of my abilities. He had to go. Sacrifices had to be made so I could advance in the world."

"You're…sick," Sam said through thick wheezes. His ribs were so painful he didn't even register the pain from his back, his arm, or his stomach.

"Maybe I am," Ava said. "But I'm not the one who's hanging from the ceiling getting the living crap beaten out of me."

"Go to hell," Sam whispered.

"I am already there," Ava said grinning a horrible smile. "And I am taking you with me."

Ava's bat came beating down upon Sam, and he could barely stand the pain. It wasn't long before his body began to succumb to his injuries and slip into the veil of unconsciousness. It was so easy to give in to it when the pain went away. He let his body fall limp and pulled away from his body and tried to get away, even if only for a few hours into the inky darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

6

Sorry it took so long to update again, but I had a little bit of writer's block. I finally have chapter 6!! Dean is in this chapter, I'm sure most of you will be happy to know. Nice long update. I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be. Three more, at the most. Hope you enjoy!

Sam reluctantly returned to his body, returning to the pain that assaulted him as soon as he began to stir. The first thing he realized was that he was no longer hanging from the ceiling by his wrists, which was a small relief in this desperate situation. Now he was sitting in a hard wooden chair with his hands tied behind his back. His ribs screamed in pain every time he breathed or moved. He tried to move to relieve his back, which was pressed painfully against the back of the chair. The cold pressed in on him from all sides, as he no longer had his shirt to warm him. He tried to open his eyelids, but they were so damn heavy. The feeling of darkness overwhelmed him to make him gasp for breath as if he were being engulfed by smoke. He knew he was there before he even opened his eyes. The thing that ruined his entire life. The Demon was standing in this room.

When Sam opened his eyes, the demon was looming over top of him, a horrible grin plastered on his face. He tried to meet his penetrating gaze, but his eyes were clouded in pain. The demon laughed quietly as Sam dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Howdy, Sammy," he said, the smile never wavering on his face. Sam's chin bobbed against his chest and he had no strength to lift it any further. The demon placed his finger under Sam's chin and forced him to look straight into his yellow eyes.

"I heard you have been a very bad boy," the demon said mockingly, removing his finger from under Sam's chin. Sam allowed his head to lie against his chest and let the demon's words wash over him. He wheezed loudly, his ribs protesting with every breath.

"I heard from my, oh so faithful soldier Ava that you have resisted all her efforts to turn you over to me," the demon said. He placed his hands on the armrests of the chair and leaned down so his face was directly in front of Sam's. "But rest assured Sammy, because I will surely not fail."

"I refuse…to be…a soldier," Sam gasped. He couldn't believe how hard it had become to breath let alone speak. Ava had done so much damage during her torture. His back and his arm throbbed painfully and his broken ribs were an indescribable pain. His face was puffy and covered in bruises, just like the rest of his body. There was no way he could resist the demon by physical means. But he would rather die than join the demon's army.

"I will break you," said the demon, his voice still calm despite the rage that encompassed his being. "By any means necessary."

He grasped his hands behind his back and turned around. Sam raised his head to look at the room properly and realized it was the room he had seen Ava being murdered.

"What…about the…vision?" Sam asked.

"It was a fake," the demon said simply, turning to face Sam. "It was to draw you in. And it worked perfectly. You even got rid of Dean for me."

"He'll…come to…save me," Sam gasped.

"And how do you presume he would do that?" the demon sneered. "Even if he could find you, he is no match for me or my soldiers."

"He'll…kill…you."

"I seriously doubt that." The demon slowly paced the room while Sam followed him with his eyes. Sam tested the ropes tying him to the chair and found that they were surprisingly loose. He started to move his wrists back and forth and felt the rope giving way. He gritted his teeth as pain shot through his left arm, reminding him that Ava had broken it with the bat. The little bitch. Maybe, just maybe, if he could get free he could escape from this godforsaken house. The demon continued on his rant while Sam worked furiously at his bonds.

"Come on Sammy," said the demon. "With me as your teacher, just imagine what you could do!" He turned around and faced Sam. "I could open so many doors for you! And all you have to do is join my army."

"So all… I have to …do is …join your… army and you …will… teach me how… to control… my powers?"

"Of course!" the demon said, excitement clear on his face. He thought he was finally getting through to Sam.

"Go to… hell, you son… of a… bitch." Sam said, a sneer crossing his face. "I…wouldn't join…your army…no matter…what!"

The demon walked casually across the room and slapped Sam viciously across the face. Sam gasped and gritted his teeth against the pain. The demon laughed bitterly and once again began his slow pacing around the room.

"You are pretty strong," he said. "But I'm stronger."

Sam felt his bonds give way in his fingers and let out a sigh of relief that was strangled by his broken ribs. He broke into a fit of coughs and blood spattered onto the floor. The demon looked over at him with distaste evident in his eyes.

"You were supposed to be the one Sammy," said the demon. "You were supposed to be my perfect soldier. Already trained by your loving daddy. You are perhaps my biggest disappointment."

"I am …so sorry I …am …such a big …disappointment," Sam said sarcastically. Sam moved his hands and let the ropes fall to the ground.

"What was that?" the demon asked.

"Not…hing," Sam answered nervously.

The demon crossed the room quickly and wrapped his fingers around Sam's throat. He lifted him easily into the air and sneered into Sam's face while he desperately clawed at the demon's fingers. He gasped for air and the demon only tightened his fingers around his neck.

"You ungrateful little wretch," the demon sneered. "I offered you so much for so little and you turned me down. And you will pay with your life."

Sam's eyes widened in fear as he desperately struggled to draw in a life-sustaining breath. The demon smiled its evil smile and slowly tightened its fingers more making it harder and harder for Sam to breath. Sam felt his world spinning and saw black slowly encroaching on the side of his vision. The shade of his face slowly turned from red to blue.

"You will be my example," the demon said. "All my soldiers will know what will happen to them if they are bad little soldiers like you."

Sam felt as if he were swimming under water. His vision blurred and he no longer tried to pry the demon's fingers from around his neck. The blackness overtook his vision and he allowed his body to become slack. The demon laughed quietly when he saw Sam give up fighting against the oncoming darkness. The demon jumped when a loud bang resonated from behind him. He whipped around to see the door slam against the wall. Dean Winchester stood in the doorway, his gun pointed right at his head. He dropped Sam, who fell to the floor in a mangled heap.

Sam felt himself being released and had an unpleasant meeting with the hard wooden floor. He did not know exactly what was going on, but he knew Dean was finally there. A feeling of warmth encompassed his body whenever he was with Dean, and he could feel it now. Dean had come to save him. Maybe just a little late, but still he had come. That was the only comfort Sam needed as he peacefully made his way to the darkness and its shield from the pain racking his entire body.

_Please give me your thoughts and your encouragement to keep writing! Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry it took so long! Stupid finals in school and a bunch of other stupid things. Well, here is a nice long update for you to enjoy._

Dean burst through the rotting door of the house, his gun raised with the safety button clicked off. The scene that greeted him was definitely not what he was expecting.

The demon was standing the middle of the room, its fingers wrapped around Sammy's throat, pressing as hard as possible. Sam was gasping, desperately trying to breathe. The seconds seemed to lengthen, making Dean feel as if he had been standing there for hours watching Sammy die when it had really only been a few seconds. He saw Sam try to pry the demon's fingers from his neck, but to no avail. He saw the defeat in Sam's eyes when he allowed his fingers to fall to his side and his body to go limp. The demon laughed wickedly when Sam gave in and allowed his soul to leave his body. The door slammed against the wall and the demon whipped around, dropping Sam as he did. Dean watched Sam's body fall to the floor as if in slow motion. His body fell against the hard wooden floor with a sickening bang that reverberated in Dean's head. Sam's eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. Dean scanned over Sam's unmoving body and felt his heart ache for his little brother.

Sam was covered in blood from head to foot. His left arm was twisted to an odd angle, suggesting that the limb was broken. His chest was no longer moving up and down. Nasty bruises covered his entire body, one large one catching Dean's eye on his exposed chest. Dean flinched instinctively: broken ribs. Poor Sammy. Dean would have felt relieved that Sam had fallen unconscious as he wouldn't feel any pain, but he was too scared he wouldn't wake up again. The demon stared down the barrel of Dean's gun and laughed softly.

"Howdy, Dean," he said, smiling at Dean's glare. "It seems you are a couple seconds too late," he said, gesturing to Sam's motionless form. "Very bad timing, if you ask me. You have caught me in a rather good mood after strangling little Sammy here, so I will allow you to keep his mangled body. I'll even let you go, if you can get out of this house alive."

With that, the demon opened his mouth and let out an earsplitting howl, releasing black smoke as it did. The human body fell onto the floor next to Sam and the black cloud went through the floor and disappeared.

Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, clicked on the safety of his gun, and sprinted over to Sam, kneeling beside his broken body. He began to panic and his hands shook as he extended them towards Sam. No breath whistled past his lips. He gripped Sam's face and willed him to wake up and look at him.

"Come on Sammy," Dean whispered, his voice filled with desperation. "Breathe, dammit!"

He put his mouth to Sammy's and breathed air into his throat, pinching his nose to allow the air to go down his throat. He pushed down as hard as he dared against Sam's chest without doing more damage to get him breathing again. He leaned towards Sam's mouth and tried to detect any breath. Nothing. He repeated the movement over and over again and sweat began to drip down his face. Mostly from frustration than at the constant breathing air into Sam's body. He pounded Sam's chest and willed him to just breathe! Why couldn't he do that just for him?

Dean sat back on his feet and slumped his shoulders. What was he supposed to do? He isn't breathing! But he can't just give up hope though! He had come all this way just to see Sam and he would be damned if he let him die. He pounded his fist on his chest and growled in frustration.

"Why won't you just BREATHE!" Dean yelled with a particularly fierce pound of his fist. Sam drew in a sudden breath and began to cough loudly, desperately filtering air into his lungs.

Dean watched Sam for a second, unable to believe what had just happened. He pulled Sam up and gently leaned him against the wall. Sam's eyes were still tightly scrunched, indicating that this was all very painful.

Sam drew in deep gasping breaths, trying to settle his racing heart. It felt as if his heart was trying to leap out of his chest. Dean was hovering over him watching his every move. Sam couldn't remember a time when he was happier to see his big brother.

"Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked, the desperation and anxiousness evident in his voice.

"I'm…okay," Sam said, surprised at the rasp of his voice. He raised his hand to his neck and found a clear ring of puffy bruises. Breathing did not come easily as his throat was slowly swelling. Fear of it completely swelling shut hovered over the brothers' heads. His ribs ached horribly, but the only thing he could think about was the fact that his brother was here and the demon was gone.

"Where's…the…demon?" Sam asked confusion etched on his face.

"He left," Dean said distractedly as he gently examined Sam's throat. "Damn Sammy, you scared me there for a minute. You weren't moving or breathing…"

Sam saw Dean's eyes fill with fear for a split second to be replaced with concern. It must have scared Dean half to death to walk into the room to see the demon strangling the life out of his little brother. Sam placed his right palm against the wall and tried to push himself into a standing position. Dean pushed himself to his feet and put his arms under Sam's armpits and pulled him gently to his feet.

"What the hell did that demon do to you?" Dean asked.

"Not…the demon." Sam whispered. It took most of his energy to get out those three simple words. "Ava."

"What are you talking about Sam?" Dean shouted a little louder than he had meant to. "She did this to you?"

"She…ah…whipped me…and…broke my…arm and…ribs," Sam wheezed. He could feel his throat swelling and his ribs poking at his lung. One misplaced breath and it would go straight through.

"I'll kill the bitch!" Dean screamed.

"Not…ah…right now," Sam said, now completely depending on Dean to support him. Blackness was once again protruding at the edge of his vision. His brain began to cloud over with lack of oxygen. He slumped even further into Dean's arms. "What…happened to…ah…the demon?"

"He left," Dean said. "He thought you were dead. Sam, we need to get out of here and get you to a hospital before your throat swells shut."

"Ah…yeah."

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's back and began to inch across the room, practically dragging Sam along with him. Grunts of pain occasionally slipped passed Sam's lips and his loud wheezing was a constant noise in the room. It was difficult dragging his injured little brother across the room, careful to not press against his back too hard or bump his broken arm and broken ribs. Progress was made slowly and after what seemed like hours they were across the room in front of the door. Sam was now completely out of it and barely conscious. Dean had sweat dripping down his face at the effort of carrying his brother across the room.

From behind them came a barely audible creak to a normal ear, but resonated in Dean's expertly trained ears. He spun around, Sam still clutched in his arms, and saw Ava Wilson with a gun pointed straight at his head.

"So, you did come to save little Sammy," Ava purred, a smile spreading across her lips. "Too bad he's already dead."

"He's not dead you little bitch," Dean sneered, "but _you _will be."

"Oh, I'm so scared," Ava said, tossing back her head and laughing loudly.

"What are you laughing at," Dean said menacingly. "I am going to tear you to shreds. After I'm done with you, your gonna wish you had never been born. I'll make you pay for what you did to Sammy."

Ava began to saunter across the room, slowly getting closer to where Dean stood clutching Sam in his arms.

"Aw, come on Dean," Ava said, "I was just having a little fun. And trust me, it was loads of fun. Watching Sammy writhe and scream in pain as the flesh was torn from his back. Or the crack that bounced off the wall when his bones were shattered with my favorite bat. He was the most fun I ever had torturing someone. He just wouldn't give in."

Dean was visibly shaking in anger and bit his lip to stop himself from lunging at her right at that moment.

"The best part was when I was finally able to get him to scream," continued Ava. "When I broke his ribs with my bat. That always makes them scream out in agony."

"SHUT UP!" Dean shouted. He placed Sam carefully on the floor and leveled his gun with Ava's forehead.

"Aw, poor Dean," Ava said in a whining voice. "Did that hurt? I assure you that this will hurt a lot more."

Ava clicked off the safety gun a split second before Dean had clicked off his. Two shots rang out almost simultaneously. Ava dropped to the floor with a bullet hole in her forehead and blood splattered on the wall behind her.

Dean clicked on the safety of his own gun and let out a sigh.

"Thank god she missed. Okay Sam, we gotta get out of here in case there are anymore demonic psychics in this freaky house."

Sam didn't answer and when Dean turned to look, he saw fresh blood blossoming from a bullet wound on Sam's shoulder.

_I'm not sure if I'm gonna keep writing this one cuz no one seems to like it very much. ____ If you feel differently, please tell me and I will continue. Please leave me nice reviews to encourage me to keep writing. Thanks guys!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hey guys, new chapter!!! My best friend Alanna writes Naruto and she uses Sam and Dean as her disclaimer boys, so I am going to use Gaara as mine._

_Gaara- Schuyler doesn't own Sam or Dean, even though she would love to._

_Schuyler- You are too right Gaara!_

_Gaara- And if anyone slashes this story, I will come to your house and kill you and your family._

_Schuyler- Stop it Gaara, you're scaring my readers!_

_Gaara- I'm sorry Schuyler. Excuse me, I need to go back to my wife Alanna._

_Schuyler- Okay. Make sure you don't kill anyone on the way there. Don't ask._

"Sam!" Dean yelled, dropping down to his brother's side.

Sam's eyes were closed and his breathing was fast and shallow. His face was pale from blood loss and he was shaking. Dean ripped his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.

"Hello, please state your emergency," said a calm voice on the end of the line.

"It's my brother," Dean said as fast as he could. "He can't breath and he got shot in the shoulder. His ribs are broken-"

"Please calm down sir," said the woman. "Please tell me your location."

"33 Summerdale Drive, Houston, Texas." This lady was really starting to piss him off. How could she be so calm when his brother was dying?

"We will dispatch an emergency vehicle to your location immediately."

"Please hurry," Dean begged, "I don't know how much longer he will last."

Dean snapped his cell phone shut and turned his attention to Sam. Without a second thought, Dean ripped off his shirt, rolled it into a ball, and pressed it against Sam's bleeding shoulder.

"Have to stop this bleeding," Dean said even though he knew Sam couldn't hear him. It was all he could think of to do. Desperation crept up from under the floorboards and encompassed Dean's senses. Tears clouded his vision until he couldn't take it anymore. Careful to keep the pressure on Sam's shoulder, he moved his body until his head was resting comfortably in his lap.

"It's okay Sammy," he said, gently stroking Sam's forehead with his finger, "the ambulance is on its way. You gotta be okay. I already saved your life once today. I would rather not have to do it again." Dean wiped the sweat that dripped from his forehead. "Come on Sammy. You can't let that little bitch get you."

Dean watched Sam closely in case his condition should change. It could happen at any second. His heart could stop because he lost too much blood and his blood pressure is dangerously low. His throat might swell completely shut and stop his breathing. Or even worse, one of his broken ribs could puncture one of his lungs. Then he would try to cough up the blood, it would get stuck in his throat and he would suffocate-.

"No, stop thinking about that!" Dean yelled. "I don't need to think about that because Sam is going to be fine once the ambulance gets here and I am sure that will be any minute now."

Dean felt a slight movement on his lap and saw that Sam was beginning to stir. Sam opened his eyes and moaned deeply. Dean clutched his face and felt fresh tears on his face.

"Oh, thank god!" Dean felt relief rushing through his body. Sam began to cough violently and Dean held his shoulders down until he stopped.

"Thanks…Dean," Sam whispered.

"No problem little brother," Dean said, smiling down at Sam. "What else am I here for. I always gotta protect you because you have this rather annoying habit of always getting into trouble. And you have a talent of scaring me half to death."

"Sorry…. Dean."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Dean said, continuing to comfortingly stroke the side of Sam's face. "All you need to do now is stay right here with me and wait for the ambulance."

"What…Ava?"

"I took care of her, you don't need to worry." As he said this, Dean looked over at Ava's motionless body on the floor and the blood spattered across the wall behind her.

Sam tried to focus on Dean's face, but everything was blurry. Try as he could, he couldn't remember what happened. He remembered Dean practically dragging him across the floor. Then he fell to the floor and there was a sharp pain in his shoulder. After that, just darkness.

"Dean…what…happened?" Sam asked, looking in the direction he thought Dean's face was.

"That Ava girl came out over there and shot you," Dean said, clenching his teeth as he said it.

"What…did…you do…to…her?" Sam asked. Although his eyes were out of focus, they were still big, brown, and puppy doggish.

"Well, I uh," Dean said while he swiped his hand across his face, "I shot her in the head."

"What?" Sam said, trying to sit up but failing miserably. His sudden outburst caused him to cough violently and blood appeared on his lips.

"Calm down Sam, you'll hurt yourself even more," Dean said, grabbing Sam's shoulders so he wouldn't move again. The blood on his lips was scaring the crap out of him. Dean tried to keep his mind away from the horrible thoughts of Sam dying in his arms. "I had to. She would have killed us both if I hadn't."

Sam knew Dean had done the right thing, but his heart still ached for his old friend. So she had tortured him mercilessly, but she was still a human being. Sam looked up at Dean and smiled weakly.

"It's…okay," Sam said. "You…did the…right…thing."

Sam allowed his head to relax in Dean's lap and concentrated on his breathing. It was getting harder and harder to breathe through his swollen throat and broken ribs. The pain was unbearable and he could feel himself slipping. Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes and fell down his cheek in a gentle stream. Blackness had almost completely covered his vision and all he could see was Dean's blurry face. That was all that mattered, that Dean was still there. The stroke of Dean's fingers on his forehead comforted him greatly and he felt him slipping into unconsciousness.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I…am…sorry…I didn't…listen…to you," Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You…were…right."

"Wow, I never thought I would live to hear you say that to me."

Sam laughed quietly and squinted when it sent another wave of pain throughout his body. Dean held out his hand and gripped Sam's hand, squeezing it gently. It was the reason Sam stayed awake those couple more minutes. It comforted him to feel his brother's rough hand in his own. Because his brother wasn't just about to let him leave. The two brothers sat on the floor in silence, Dean impatient for the ambulance to arrive and Sam, who was just glad to be with his brother. He couldn't remember the last time Dean had held him like this. He hoped he would live to experience it again.

Sam began to shake more violently and the darkness was becoming harder to fight. Tears began to flow faster down his cheeks in a steady stream. They never made it to the floor because Dean wiped them away before they could. He couldn't lay still and he began to writhe in pain. His back was pressed painfully against the wooden floor and breathing was a painful chore.

"Shh Sammy," Dean said, no longer bothering to wipe away his own tears. "Don't cry. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. And as long as I'm here, neither are you."

Dean looked down at his little brother laying on the floor, suffering. That's when he saw it. Sam's breathing was becoming more labored and much slower. Dean's shirt that was pressed against his shoulder was completely soaked in blood. When he looked into Sam's eyes, he could see them glazing over. Sam's eyes fluttered once and began to close.

"No Sammy, keep your eyes open!"

The last thing Sam heard before he once again relinquished himself to the darkness was his brother's anguished cry.

"Sam!" Dean held his brother tightly in his arms. "Please don't go! I almost lost you once today!" Dean's tears slid down his cheeks and landed on Sam's pale and blood stained face. "I'm so sorry."

Dean lifted his head sharply as the whine of sirens reached his ears.

"Oh thank god," Dean said, still gripping onto his brother's steadfast body in his arms for dear life. "They're here Sammy, they're finally here. Just hold on."

_Yes, I know I am totally evil for lying and saying I wasn't going to update anymore. You're reviews and encouragement are greatly loved and appreciated. You would make my day if you reviewed. Thanks guys!_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Hey guys, another update!! I am not that good at medical stuff, so please don't laugh. I did a lot of research. Please read and review!!!! I love to hear from you.**_

Dean raised his head and watched as two paramedics burst through the door beside him with an earsplitting bang. The first was a young woman in her early thirties with long dark hair. The second paramedic was a man in his late thirties with short light hair. Dean's eyes were glazed and he slowly lowered his head back on top of his little brother's. Helplessness was clear on his face and tears stained his usually unreadable face. The two paramedics paused briefly to examine the room. The body of a girl in her early twenties law sprawled on the floor on the other side of the room. Blood was sprayed on the wall behind her and the bullet hole was visible on her forehead. Their eyes traveled to the two young men lying on the floor. They couldn't decide who was more broken, the young man drenched in blood, or the older man who was clutching the other man's body as if his life depended on it. The two paramedics gripped onto their equipment tightly and walked over to the two men, leaning down until they were level with the man.

"Hello, my name is Dan and this is my partner Jen," the paramedic said, trying to break into the man's reverie. "Can you tell me your name?"

Dean raised his eyes and studied the two paramedics. They looked trustworthy enough and they were the only hope he had.

"Dean," he said, not loosening his grip on Sam.

"Okay Dean," said Dan. "You are going to have to let go of your friend here so we can take a look at him."

"Brother," Dean said sharply. "He's my brother."

"Brother, right, I'm sorry," Dan said quickly. "Could we take a look at him?"

"Yeah, of course," Dean said, regretfully loosening his vice like grip on Sam. Dean moved Sam so that Joe could examine him but left Sam's head resting in his lap.

"Now Dean, can you tell us what happened?" asked Jen while her partner started to work on Sam. Dean knew Jen was trying to distract him while Dan tried to help his little brother. Dean found that he couldn't find the words to tell them what had happened. The lies that usually slipped so easily passed his lips halted while he watched Dan examine his motionless brother. Jen stared at Dean, but he offered no explanation to the blood or the body.

"What's your brother's name, Dean?" Jen asked gently, trying desperately to reach out to the broken man sitting in front of her.

"Sam," Dean said, never taking his eyes off Sam's body. His eyes watched each shallow breath that passed his brother's lips. They were becoming even slower and sounded wet and raspy. Even as Dean watched, his breaths stopped completely. Sam's face started to turn a sickly shade of blue.

"Dammit, Jen, he's not breathing!" Dan said, the panic evident in his voice. "We need to get a breathing tube down his throat."

Dean watched in a daze while Jen and Dan tried to get his brother breathing again. Nothing seemed to be working and his brother was getting worse by the second. Medical terms spewed from their mouths and Dean found himself having no idea what was going on. By the frantic looks on Jen and Dan's faces, Dean could tell his brother was not getting any better, only worse. More paramedics streamed in through the door and surrounded his brother. Dean was pushed against a wall as the paramedics tried to help Sam.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled over the noise in the room, trying to get back to his baby brother. Dean watched Sam, who was now being loaded onto a gurney and rolled as quickly as possible outside to the waiting emergency vehicle.

"Wait!" Dean yelled, skidding to stop behind the ambulance. "I need to go with him."

Jen and Dan stopped and looked at the man gripping the door to the ambulance to prevent them from slamming it in his face. They knew there was no way he would allow them to take his brother away without him. Jen extended her hand towards a blood soaked Dean.

"Well come on then," Jen said with a soft smile.

Dean grasped her hand and she pulled him into the ambulance. Dan pulled the back door shut and Dean raced to Sam's side, grasping his unbroken hand. It was so cold. His face was still blue. The ambulance pulled away from the house and sped off towards the hospital.

"The hospital is only ten minutes away Dean," Jen said while pumping on what looked like a clear balloon. Dean followed the tube it was connected to and saw that it led to Sam's mouth.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"Helping your brother here breathe," Jen said, continuing to pump air into Sam. "I need to do it manually until we get to the hospital. Once we get there, we can put him on a respirator."

"But he's still a little blue," Dean said, brushing his finger across Sam's face.

"Yeah," Jen said, concern etched on her face. "I think one of his broken ribs penetrated his right lung. I can only pump air into his left one. Once we get to the hospital, doctors will be able to repair it." Jen bit her lip nervously and tried to concentrate on keeping Sam alive until they got to the hospital.

"You don't seem so sure," Dean said, looking at Jen's nervous demeanor.

"Well, you're brother has been cut off from a sufficient amount of oxygen for a long time," Jen began nervously. "There might be some problems since his body was cut off from much needed oxygen."

"What kind of problems?" Dean asked, looking at Jen who avoided his searching eyes.

"If the brain is cut off from oxygen for too long, it could result in various problems," Jen began, but was interrupted by a loud beep on one off the monitors.

Dan looked up at Jen with a panic stricken look on his face.

"What's going on?" Dean asked looking from Jen to Dan. Dean was pushed aside while Dan and Jen surrounded his brother. Dan pulled out paddles and rubbed them together.

"Charge to 250 Jen!" Dan yelled.

"Charging!"

Dean clutched his hands together and watched while his brother was shocked and his back arched unnaturally. The image would never leave Dean's mind as long as he lived. The heart monitor continued to whine in a straight line indicating Sam's heart still wasn't beating.

"Nothing!" Jen yelled, looking over at Dan.

"Charge to 300!" Dan screamed to Jen over the perpetual whine of the monitor.

"Charging!"

Sam once again arched his back to an unbelievable angle as the charge was sent through his body. Dean looked over at the heart monitor again, but it remained steadfast. Just as Dan was about to charge Sam again, Dean heard a small beep break through the relentless whine. Sam's heart was beating slowly at first and started to pick up to reach normal speed. Jen clutched her heart and Dan replaced the paddles.

"Oh thank god," Jen said, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow.

"What the hell just happened!" Dean yelled, looking over a Jen with a look mixed with confusion, shock, and utter terror.

"His heart just stopped," Jen said breathlessly.

"Yeah I get that his heart stopped," Dean yelled angrily, "but why did it stop!"

"Like I was saying before, oxygen deprivation can cause damage to the brain and in turn other bodily functions, such as the heart," Jen said. "Your brother just had a stroke."

"What?" Dean yelled, unable to contain himself.

"Please calm down Dean." Dean looked over at Jen and she looked like she was close to tears. "We are doing everything we can."

"I'm sorry," Dean said. "It's just, he's my brother. I don't want to loose him."

"I understand Dean," Jen said, gripping Dean's shoulder sympathetically.

The ambulance stopped and the back doors opened to a rush of doctors. They stepped in the back and rolled Sam out, yelling his heart rate and blood pressure.

"Wait, where are you taking him!" Dean yelled over the noise, but all the doctors ignored him. "Sammy!"

"Dean!" Jen grabbed Dean's shoulder and turned him to face her. "You need to calm down. They are taking Sam into the emergency room to do some surgery. You can't follow him into the OR."

"Why not?" Dean asked angrily.

"You will only get in their way," Jen said sympathetically. "You've done all you can do for Sam. All you can do now is sit in that waiting room and pray for him."

"How long is it going to take?" Dean asked, looking hopefully at Jen.

"I don't know," Jen said. "It doesn't matter how long it takes, as long as they help your brother. He had some pretty serious injuries, I would expect it to take a while."

"Right," Dean said while Jen led him to the waiting room. Dean sat down in the chair closest to the desk and put his head in his hands, tearing at his short brown hair. "I'm sure that will work. God always seems to be on our side."

"Do you want me to wait with you?"

"No, you go save more lives," Dean said. "I'll be okay."

"Don't worry Dean," Jen said. "I'm sure Sam will be okay."

As Jen walked away, Dean tried to remember a time when he had told a worse lie.

Please press that review button and leave me your thoughts. 


	10. Chapter 10

_**Yeah, another update! Now that it is summer, I will be able to update much faster. Enjoy chapter 10!**_

It had been four hours. Four incredibly long hours since Sam had been rushed past him in a flurry activity. It had been four hours since Sam had entered surgery and still there had been no news. Well no news is good news. Or was it? Maybe there was no news yet because they were afraid to tell him that they had not been able to save his brother. No, there had been no news yet because they were still repairing Sammy's broken body. After all, there had been a lot of damage and that was only what Dean had seen on the outside. There could be internal injuries, like bleeding. Jen had told him that she thought that one of his ribs had punctured his right lung. That would probably take a while to repair. Who knows what else they might have to do. Dean twisted the silver ring that was around his finger over and over again anxiously. He desperately wanted news of his brother, but he was afraid what they might tell him. If his brother was dead, he didn't know what he would do. For what felt like the millionth time, and probably was, Dean went up to the nurse at the desk.

"Is there any news yet?"

"No, Mr. Williams, nothing yet," the nurse said, rather annoyed. "I will tell you as soon as I know anything. As I have told you before."

Dean huffed impatiently and shuffled back to his seat. His hands wound together and through his hair, desperately trying to find a way to vent their impatience and anxiousness. Unable to take it anymore, Dean got up and began pacing back and forth across the waiting room. Other people in the room stared curiously at the bloodied man pacing across the room, wondering if they should help him, or be afraid of him. The nurse followed his progress back and forth across the room, getting more annoyed with each step the man took.

"Would you please sit down?" the nurse said. "You're making me dizzy."

Dean glared at the nurse and reluctantly plopped down in his seat. He looked at his watch; it was 6:34 AM. It was then that he realized just how tired he was. He hadn't slept since Sam had disappeared, which was roughly a day ago. Had it really been only a day? It had seemed so much longer without Sam. Dean couldn't stop thinking about how Sam had looked when he had found him. He couldn't erase the image of the demon squeezing the life out of his little brother. Or the feeling of horror he had felt when he saw the blood blossoming on Sam's shoulder. After all the anguish and impatience Dean had gone through in the past 24 hours, Sam just had to okay. He had to at least be alive. Sam was a fighter; he wouldn't make it all the way to the hospital just to die.

Dean scanned the room; all the other people in the room looked just as desperate as him. Some of them would receive good news, while others would learn that their loved ones had moved on. Dean desperately hoped he was a member of the first group rather than the latter. Parents, grandparents, sisters, and brothers crowded the room. Some would leave with smiles, while others would leave in tears. Dean grasped his hands together even tighter and tried to ignore the sting at the corner of his eyes. He wasn't going to cry, not now. Not until he knew how Sam was.

A doctor walked through the doors at the right side of the waiting room, clipboard in hand. She scanned the room briefly and ruffled through the papers on her clipboard.

"Excuse me, could I please see the relatives of Samuel Williams?" She said, glancing at the various faces staring at her in the room. All the other people put their heads back down dejectedly and Dean leaped from his seat and found himself in front of the doctor with lightning speed.

"How is he?" Dean asked, trying to read the doctors face. "Is he alive? Is he going to okay?"

"Please calm down Mr. Williams," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. She held out her hand and Dean took it quickly, wanting to hear news of a Sam. "I am Doctor Turner. Follow me and I'll tell you how your brother is doing."

Doctor Turner led Dean through the white doors and led him down a long hallway with white washed walls. Everything was so white and clean. They passed six doors and finally stopped at a door that looked exactly like all the other ones.

"This is Sam's room," Doctor Turner said. Dean tried to open the door, but the doctor blocked his way. "I need to talk to you first before you go in."

"Is he okay?" Dean asked, worry seeping into his voice.

"Yes, he will live."

"Oh thank god," Dean said, relief clearly evident on his face.

"But I still need to talk to you before you go in," Doctor Turner said, her smile turning into a more serious glare.

"Shoot."

"Your brother had many serious injuries," Doctor Turner began. "He had two broken ribs, one of which punctured his right lung. The surgeons were able to fix that up nicely. He had an innumerable amount of stitches to repair his back. By the way, what the hell happened to his back? It looked as if he had gotten whipped at least 10 times."

"Well, Sammy here decided to run away from me," Dean said, trying to decide what to tell the doctor. "He went and got himself kidnapped by that girl back there. She tortured him. I got there in time to shoot her in the head before she killed him."

"He got kidnapped, by a girl?" asked Doctor Turner, a look of disbelief crossing her face.

"She's a lot stronger than most girls," Dean said, trying to get the doctor to believe him. "She may not look it, but she can kick some serious ass. And she came after him from behind and knocked him out. By the time he woke up, he was tightly bound to a chair."

"Okay," the doctor said slowly, trying to find a flaw in Dean's explanation. "How exactly did you find him?"

"I tapped into the GPS on his cell phone," Dean said, flashing the doctor one of his most brilliant smiles. He found that he was in a spectacular mood ever since finding out Sam was okay. "Now please continue on how Sam is."

"Alright," she said, still a little uncertain with how truthful Dean was being with her. "Okay, I have good news and bad news. We put his arm in a cast and his ribs should be able to mend correctly now that they are set in place. Also, we had to put him on an artificial respirator so he could breath, so he will be mildly sedated to avoid any discomfort."

"Okay, so what's the good news?" Dean asked, a smile still lingering on his face.

"That was the good news."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, the smile disappearing at fast as it had appeared.

"Well, since your brother had been cut off from a sufficient amount of oxygen for so long, there were certain complications."

"What kind of complications?" Dean asked, fear creeping into his voice.

"Oxygen deprivation can affect the brain and cause some problems," Doctor Turner began. "Your brother doesn't remember what happened to him."

"You mean he has some memory loss?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Doctor Turner said. "We are not sure how much has been erased from his mind, but I am sure you will be able to help him remember anything he has forgotten."

"Of course," Dean said, the smile once again appearing on his face. "I can do that no problem. If that's it, I would love to see my brother."

"Wait, Mr. Williams-" Doctor Turner said, trying to block Dean's path.

Dean pushed past the doctor and opened the door to Sam's room. Sam was laying on his bed in a drug-induced doze. He turned his head at the creak of the door and saw Dean smiling at him from the doorway.

"Hey Dean," he said.

Dean felt his throat tightening up. Sam's voice sounded so raspy and weak, but he was alive. Oh thank god he was alive. Dean ran over to Sam's bed and rapped his arms around his little brother.

"Thank god you're okay," he said, the tears finally streaming down his face. "I thought I lost you."

"It's okay…Dean," Sam said, rapping his uninjured arm around Dean. "I'm…still here."

Dean pulled back and looked at his brother with concern.

"I'm sorry," Dean said. "Your ribs must be killing you. And your back too. Do you want to lay on your side so you don't have to put pressure on it?"

"No, I'm okay," Sam said, smiling at his brother's affection. "There's a lot of bandages on it. I'm so hyped up on drugs anyway."

Dean laughed and what a wonderful sound it was. He pulled up a chair to Sam's bedside and sat down, gripping Sam's uninjured hand. It felt so good to hold his hand in his and not have to worry if he was going to leave him at any second. Sam looked up at Dean and a confused look crossed his face.

"What's a matter Sam?" Dean asked.

"I was just wondering," Sam said, carefully choosing his words, "where's dad?"

Thank you for reading my story and I hope you enjoyed it! Please PLEASE review!! They mean so much to me!  


	11. Chapter 11

Previously on _The Demon's Will_…

"_What's a matter Sam?" Dean asked._

"_I was just wondering," Sam said, carefully choosing his words, "where's dad?"_

"What are you talking about Sam?" Dean asked, the anxiousness already beginning to find its way into his mind. How much exactly had been erased from Sammy's mind?

"I know Dad and I have been fighting, but he must have come to the hospital to see if I was okay, right?" Sam's face lit up at the possibility of seeing his father after a long time away at school.

Dean opened his mouth, but was unable to put how he was feeling into words. It was worse than he had originally thought, much worse. He didn't know how his brother would digest what he would have to tell him.

"Dean, what happened to me?" Sam asked, throwing his brother another confused look.

"Well," Dean said, sitting next to Sam on his bed, "what do you remember?"

"The last thing I remember is going to bed with Jess," Sam said. Suddenly, he shot up in his bed, his eyes wide and frightened. He grabbed Dean's hand and grasped it in his. "Is she okay? Please tell me she didn't get hurt too!"

Dean looked down at Sam's hand which was holding onto his as if for dear life, just like he had been holding him only hours before. How was he supposed to tell his little brother that his girlfriend and their dad were dead, and had been dead for a while now? He pushed Sam gently back down onto his pillow.

"Sam, what year is it?"

"Dean, I don't see what this has to do with-"

"Just answer the question."

"2006."

Dean used his other hand to swipe it across his face. What was he going to do? How was Sammy going to react when he told him a year of his life had been wiped from his mind? He squeezed Sam's hand tighter and prepared himself for the inevitable.

"It's 2007 Sam."

"What?" Sam said, becoming more confused by the second. "It's 2006, man, what the hell are you talking about?"

"No Sam, it's 2007," Dean began. "The demon sent you a false vision of Ava being murdered. You ran away from me and tried to save her." Dean paused and tried to gather his strength. This was much harder than he had thought. He couldn't imagine what Sam was going through. The look on his face told Dean exactly how he was doing. He looked confused, hurt, and anxious, a rather bad combination.

"Keep going Dean," Sam said, trying to keep his voice even and the tears at bay.

"The demon kidnapped you and Ava tortured you," Dean said. He was finding it hard to talk as his throat was closing up on him. It was so painful to hold back tears, but not nearly as painful as letting them fall. He always felt so defeated when he allowed them to make it down his cheeks. He had to be strong for his little brother, who was going through much more pain than he was. "Then the demon strangled you and I came in. He left and I performed CPR on you. You started breathing again and I started to drag you across the room. Ava came into the room with a gun and tried to kill us. I shot her in the head and she got a shot out that hit you in the shoulder. I called 911 and they came and picked you up. You were in surgery for a couple hours. The reason you lost your memory is because of oxygen deprivation. It can cause brain problems, including memory loss."

Dean stopped and waited while Sam absorbed all of this. By the look on his face, he was having trouble. Now it was time for the hardest part. He was going to ask soon, he knew it. It was unavoidable.

"What happened to Jess?" Sam asked, his brown eyes big and puppy doggish. "Is she okay?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak and again was unable to find the words or the courage to tell his little brother that his girlfriend Jess had been dead for over a year and that their dad had passed away a couple months afterward. How was he supposed to take that all in, after what he had just heard? Dean got up from his position on Sam's bed and moved closer, closer to his brother. He sat directly next to Sam, who laid his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean used his rough and calloused hands to gently stroke Sam's long brown locks. Sam relaxed onto Dean's shoulder and closed his eyes. It felt so good to hold his little brother in his arms, feeling his chest rise and fall.

"The thing about Jess is-," Dean started, but Sam cut him off. He looked at him, those puppy dog eyes staring.

"She's dead, isn't she?" Sam asked, his eyes filling with tears.

Dean bowed his head low and let out a nearly inaudible yes.

"And Dad?"

Dean nodded his head sadly.

"No, this can't be real!" Sam yelled. "This is just a dream! I am going to wake up and Jess is going to lying beside me. She is going to roll over and tell me she loves me."

Dean saw him break. The tears fell and his shoulder's shook while Dean held him in his arms. He couldn't imagine how it felt to feel that awful pain all over again, raw and fresh. Jess the love of his life, and Dad, the only parent he ever knew were gone again. The nightmares would come again. Every night he would wake up screaming for Dad or Jess, and they would only be angels, hearing him call them but unable to answer the desperate plea.

"This can't be happening," Sam said, his face red and streaked with tears.

"I'm so sorry Sammy," Dean said, a few tears of his own finally escaping into a tangle of Sam's hair.

"How did she die?" Sam asked, the desperation finding a place in his voice.

"The demon killed her," Dean said, wishing he could keep the harmful information away from his little brother.

"And dad?"

"Same thing."

Sam buried his face into Dean's shoulder and wept. He cried because he had just found out two of the most important people in his life were dead, and had been dead. Jess, his beloved girlfriend and the girl he was going to ask to marry him. And Dad. But he still had Dean, and that was all he needed.

"Dean, how much did I forget?"

"You have no idea."

Sam looked up at his big brother with a soft smile. Sadness peered through on the edges of that small smile, but it was still a smile.

It looked to Dean like it was going to be a very long night in the hospital.

The two brother's lay there, feeling each other's hearts beating. They shared their sorrows and their memories. It would take a while to absorb all they had been through, but they would get through it, just like everything else. Together.

Fin 

_**Oh no, it's over! I want to thank everyone who stuck with me until the end. I want to especially thank all of you who reviewed, you are too kind. Please leave a review, they mean so much to me. I will be starting a new story soon, so please be sure to check me out. Again, thank you sooo much for reading my story!**_


	12. Author's Note

_**Author's Note**____**I want to thank all of the people who stuck with me throughout this entire story, especially those who were kind enough to leave a review. Some of you expressed the feeling that I ended it at a bad spot and too abruptly, and I agree with you. That is why I have started a new story called "The Angel's Will" which is a sequel to "The Demon's Will". I hope this satisfies those who were unhappy with the ending. Please check it out, as I am sure you will like it. There is more torture, though it is more emotional. It will now be considered AU in light of the amazing season finale. I hope you will check it out and if you do, I hope you enjoy it!**_

_**SupernaturalFreak101**_


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